


Lions and the Howell Society

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Phanfiction, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, bagpipe bands, but the sin has returned to me god bless america, dan and phil are rival drum majors, i don't know anything about bagpipes lol, implied kickthesticks - Freeform, yolo amrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5830204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel James Howell wasn't willing to lose the national title two years running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lions and the Howell Society

**Author's Note:**

> idk about you but i'm proud of this. sorry about half way through the writing style shifts. i started this a few months ago, and since then my style was grown

Daniel James Howell wasn’t one to take failure lightly. As drum major, winning the national title fell completely on him. He refused to lose this year, especially not after losing to a completely unknown band last year.

_The Yorkshire Lions._

 

God, Dan despised them. For a three man assemble, they weren’t _awful._ But honestly, Dan refused to lose to someone with such a fucking pretty-

 

Dan shook his head. _No,_ he couldn’t think like that. Phil Lester, the Lions’ drum major, might have been ever so slightly handsome, but he was a still a prick.

 

Dan walked around the festival, smiling as the sound of the many pipe bands warming up and practicing for the competition surrounded him. He felt at home here more than anywhere else. He had grown up in this park, running along behind his parents as they fought every year for the clogging and piping wins. They had been good, but they were insistent that Dan was even better. He had never believed them in favor of shrugging it off and smiling and saying, _no, I could never be as good as you_. They would laugh, _Daniel, you’ll get the title we never could. I’m sure of it, I believe in you._

 

But they were right, all these years later. The Howell Society was racking up wins at local festivals faster than they could be planned, all thanks to Dan. If you were to ask him, Dan would politely decline, _I couldn’t do any of it without my team. It's all thanks to them, really._

 

But now it was April, and everyone knew than nationals were a far cry from New Castle Semiannual Piping Match. _(Even if The Howell Society placed second every year since Daniel James Howell became their next drum major. And, even if they should have placed first last year, after the reigning champs from Dublin were disqualified last year, if only The Yorkshire Lions hadn’t entered literally five minutes before The Howell Society’s set.)_

 

Dan wasn’t bitter, God no, he just wanted to win. Badly. Because, truth be told, he wasn’t such a bad drum major after all.

 

…

 

“Hey, Howell.” Phil Lester smiled. “It’s good to see you again.”

_Why did he have to be so goddamn cheerful all the time?_

 

“Phil,” Dan kept walking, straightening his kilt as he went. Warm ups started soon; he couldn’t be late.

 

But Phil, the fucking idiot, ran alongside Dan, perfectly content with a one sided conversation.

 

“I’m really excited about this year. Last year, we just kind of showed up, but this year we actually practiced more than usual!”

 

“That’s great.” Dan said, his voice dry and emotionless. _This guy,_

 

“I heard a lot of really good teams were competing this year, so good luck! I hope you do well.” He ran off, his kilt swishing behind him, and Dan was left staring dumbfounded at his glorious, gift-from-God ass.

 

…

 

There was something bitter sweet about finally taking first.

 

A low cloud hung over the field, making every color look washed out and dull. He smiled at his band, pulling them all into a hug. They were all cold and crying, _I never thought we would actually win!_ Dan was so proud of each and every one of them. And as they all held hands in a circle, tear stained cheek and wrinkled kilts and a _fucking trophy holy shit,_ Dan was crying for a very different reason.

 

Phil Lester stood under an umbrella with two other men. They were shaking their heads and frowning, mumbled words shuffled between them. The Yorkshire Lions hadn’t even placed.

 

 

And, it wasn’t even like they had done horribly. No, they had done smashing and yet, that still hadn’t been good enough. Sucking up his pride, Dan walked over.

 

“Hey, Lester.”

 

“Dan,” Phil smiled. “These are and Peej.”

 

Dan waved at them before turning his attention back to Phil. “Can I talk to you? Away from everyone else?”

 

Phil glanced at and Peej before following Dan to the outskirts of the festival.

 

“So what did you want to talk about?”

 

“I was surprised you didn’t win this year.”

 

“You could have said that in front of and Peej.”

 

“I know.” Dan shrugged. It was raining now. The water caused his kilt to stick to his legs. “I’m still happy I won, though, even if Peej ended up looking like a kicked puppy.”

 

“You’re so blunt sometimes.” Phil took a step forward, his fingers brushing against Dan’s hands. “I like that about you, Howell.”

 

“You’re okay yourself.”

 

Phil’s eyes crinkled before he finally grabbed Dan’s hands.

 

Dan gasped. The hands were cold and larger than his own, but comforting all the same. He held Phil’s hands tightly, never loosening his grasp. It felt nice, Dan decided. It reminded him of home.

 

“Cold?” Phil raised an eyebrow as Dan’s hands shook in the cold; the rain an unceasing mantra filling his mind as it tapped the grass and spring flowers around him.

 

Dan nodded. The heavy mist hanging over the field was icy, sending shivers down his skin.

 

“Want to hang out in my hotel room?” Phil’s smile was fucking sunshine as he asked, and sudden Dan was no longer cold.

 

He nodded again. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

 

…

Dan had always been one to rush headlong into something. He rarely thoughts things through, but as Phil kissed him softly in the warm elevator, Dan suddenly stopped hating his lack of impulse control. His wet kilt brushed against the backs of his knees, his back pressed against the wall of the elevator. Phil’s hands gently grasped Dan’s jaw. His mouth was warm and gentle, a constant presser as reassuring as his drum beat.

 

They broke apart when the door chimed open. They both breathed heavily as Dan blushed. Phil’s thumbs traced his cheekbones, sending shivers down his spine. Dan tripped over his feet as they exited the elevator, giggling as Phil dragged him down the hall.

 

Once they were in Phil’s room, Dan’s hands were back to gripping Phil’s lapels as sighs filled the air. Phil’s lips skirted over Dan’s neck, sucking marks that left him limp and breathless. Phil pushed Dan against the door, a hand on Dan’s hip and the other in his hair.

 

“Ph-Phil,” Dan could feel Phil’s semi against his hip, the weight only adding to the blood collecting in his dick. “I want you,”

 

Phil’s mouth froze from where is had been working on leaving a mark. He stepped away from Dan, obviously flustered.

 

“Oh, okay…” he ran father into the room.

 

Dan followed him, slipping his shoes off on the way, confused until he saw Phil searching in a duffle bag.

 

Phil glanced up when he heard Dan. He blushed lightly, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at Dan. “I wasn’t expecting this. and Peej won’t mind if I use any of their stuff…

 

“You’re positive about this, right, Dan?”

 

And Dan fucking swooned, because Phil was the definition of a gentleman with a mouth as sweet as Hell.

 

“As long as I’m not completely flaccid by the time you get your shit together. Then, yes. Totally.”

 

“When in Rome,”

 

“I’m not sure that saying has anything to do with gay sex, Phil.” Dan laughed as he climbed onto the sloppily bed. “But if that gets me laid, then by all means.”

 

Phil rolled his eyes and threw a bottle of lube at Dan’s head. He clambered on the bed beside Dan, straddling his waist and kissing him hard. Dan’s hands found their way to Phil’s hair as he struggled to get Dan out of his jacket. Dan wouldn’t help him in favor of kissing and sucking bites on Phil's neck. When Phil finally got his blazer off, his bow tie and shirt quickly followed.

 

“If you get my shirt wrinkly, I’ll- _ah!”_   Dan’s back arched up over the bed. Phil’s hands moved comfortably over his body, lighting up the delicate skin. Phil ground his hips down against Dan’s, dragging a moan from deep in his throat.

 

Phil was hard, his cock straining inside his kilt. He was still full clothed over Dan.

 

“Come on, Phil,” he whined. “Take it off! It isn’t fair.”

 

“Nothing is fair with you, Dan.” But Phil was smiling as he shrugged off his black blazer. Slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt. The speed annoyed the boy underneath him to no end, but the sounds leaping out of his throat were _heaven_.

 

Dan grinned up at him, his hands tracing Phil’s hips. Phil leaned forward until his lips were next to Dan’s ear. Dan shivered as Phil breathed, the cool air coasting over his skin.

 

“Can I rim you?”

 

And _fucking hell_ , Dan had never gasped so hard in his life as when Phil said those words. Phil bit his lip as he waited for an answer, and the curve of his mouth ruined his innocence. His eyes glinted in the pale light of the hotel, and the sound of the rain echoed through the room.

 

“Yes,” Dan sighed. “Please,”

 

Slowly, Phil pressed a kiss below Dan’s ear. He worked his way down Dan’s torso, alternating between kisses and sucking bruises onto his pale skin. Dan’s breath was chaotic at best, a storm of moans and feverish ‘ _Phil, please_ ’s at worst. By the time Phil reached his kilt, tears were gathering at the corners of Dan’s eyes. His nails clawed at Phil’s shoulders, tugging at his hair as Phil traced the outline of his dick through Dan’s kilt. Dan’s toes curled in his socks.

 

“Phil, please- “ His words were cut off as Phil tugged down his kilt and boxers all in one go. The sudden cool air pricked at his leaking dick. Phil’s fingertips trailed across the flaming skin as his lips found a home on Dan’s inner thighs.

 

Dan was on fire. Phil left a trail of heat across his entire body, slowly igniting until he burst into flame. Phil’s mouth was everywhere and Dan couldn’t get enough of it.

 

“Fucking Hell, Phil- oh God,” he was unable to tie down a single coherent thought. They swarmed around his mind, demanding more until he could do no more than beg for everything Phil was giving him. He lifted Dan’s leg and rested it on his shoulder to open Dan wider. The room filled with barely suppressed moans, Dan’s eyes scrunched tight.

 

When Phil’s mouth finally brushed against his entrance, Dan had to hold back a scream. Phil’s tongue moved deftly, fluttering against the pink puckered skin around his hole. Dan’s legs quivered as the muscles grew taunt from stimulation. His cock throbbed against his stomach. It left a trail of precum on the skin, smearing as he shifted for any odd hint of friction.

 

“Think you could come from just this?” Phil asked before he licked a broad stripe across Dan’s hole. Dan hissed at the touch. “I think you could,”

 

“Maybe- “

 

Before Dan was able to finish speaking, Phil jutted his tongue sharply into Dan’s hole as far as it would go. Dan’s hands clenched around the pillow behind his head. His eyes rolled back Phil tongue moved, flicking from side to side.

 

“Hand me the lube?”

 

“Mmm,” Dan searched blindly for it on the bed before his fingers finally located it. He handed it to Phil, nearly dropping it when Phil sucked hard on his thigh.

 

Dan heard the pop of the cap opening, but he didn’t process what it meant until a slender finger trailed along his rim. He gasped, nearly shooting up into a sitting position at the shock. Phil grunted before forcing Dan’s hips down with his free hand. Dan weakly strained against it at first, but eventually gave up.

 

He was nearing the edge. It was creeping up behind him, waiting to push him over as Phil finally, _finally,_ slid a finger in beside his tongue. Soon, his moans were just a continuous stream, Phil’s name becoming an unceasing mantra.

 

When Dan climaxed, it hit him like a bullet. He cried out, biting his arm hard enough to leave a bruise. Phil kissed his thighs as he came, softly stroking his calves.

 

“Good job, Dan,” he whispered, kissing his forehead. “I’m proud of you,”

 

Dan made grabbing motions at Phil, but he ignored them. Phil went into the bathroom, and Dan could hear the water running through the thin wall. The door opened soon, but Dan was already asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Comments with your opinions are appreciated :)


End file.
